


The Rusted Car Past Dally’s Place

by dyingpoet, johnny cade (johnnycake)



Category: The Outsiders - All Media Types
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, more of an implied ship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-27
Updated: 2018-05-27
Packaged: 2019-05-14 13:31:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14770541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dyingpoet/pseuds/dyingpoet, https://archiveofourown.org/users/johnnycake/pseuds/johnny%20cade
Summary: Johnny and Dallas both find themselves in the vacant lot one night, they make their way to somewhere more comfortable





	The Rusted Car Past Dally’s Place

**Author's Note:**

> Ayyy we're collabing!! We both love angst and have a shitty time writing dialogue, the key characteristics of good writing partners

It wasn’t very warm in Tulsa at night during the summer and Johnny had to pull his jacket tight around him to keep from feeling cold. It didn’t help that there were tears streaming down his cheeks, freezing his skin every time a breeze blew through the neighborhood. He was walking fast, knowing the quicker he got to the house, the sooner he could warm up. 

It had been a typical night in the Cade household. Typical here meaning violent. His father was a construction worker and stronger than he might have been otherwise, which meant everything he did hurt ten times more. Johnny shuddered at the thought, walking faster, the marks on his skin from where his father had hit him with his belt stinging as he did so. The lot wasn’t that far distance-wise, but in this cold with the way he was feeling, it could’ve been miles instead of only yards. 

But he wasn’t headed there first.

Over the years he’d memorized the amount of footsteps it took to get to the Curtis’s front door. It varied depending on injuries and such, but counting them gave him something to focus on besides the ache of his jaw and, potentially cracked, ribs. 

It actually took him three less steps than normal to get there, and as he raised his hand toward the doorknob he thought better, it was awfully quiet and he didn’t want to wake anyone up; the lot was comfortable enough, and Darry was nice enough to say he was welcome whenever he needed it. 

So, he started the fifteen steps it took to get him toward the busted car he usually slept in, it looked about as shitty as he felt whenever he had to crash in it and if he was being honest, it felt safer than home. It creaked pretty loud when he pulled at the door and after a struggle to get it to unstick he crawled in and laid across the front seats. His ribs were really starting to hurt now. He grimaced as he laid his head down on the arm of the car seat, staring at the old, rusted dashboard in front of him.

Not for the first time, Johnny thought about how unfair everything was. It wasn’t fair he had to sleep in a car in the lot instead of his own bed because he might be hurt by his own parents if he did. It wasn’t fair that he lived in such a shitty part of town that the cops didn’t take reports of abuse seriously anymore. And it wasn’t fair that his friends had to worry about him all the time because of what his parents did. 

His closed his eyes, still grimacing, curling in on himself, his arms wrapped around his torso. He wanted to lay there and cry himself to sleep, but he knew if he started crying, he’d never stop and he always felt worn out after he finished crying, like the tears not only took out all of the pain inside him, but all the energy as well.

Instead, he decided to try to fall asleep. He didn’t bother trying to build the fire he’d thought of building before. He realized now he hurt too much for that, but he also hurt too much to really sleep too, so he lay in the car, drifting in that place between waking and sleep, wishing he were anywhere but here, and anyone but himself.

* * *

 

Dallas didn’t really have any reason to be heading over to the vacant lot that night. He’d gotten out of the cooler about a week ago and still had some shit he wanted to get settled, but the thought of doing any of that tonight was exhausting.

And, as one usually does if they live in this part of town, the found himself walking toward the lot without even realizing it. It was quieter than his place anyway, and sleeping out nice felt great after being cooped up for so long.

It only took a couple of minutes. All the lights were off in the house and while a couch sounded better than a beat up car, he opted for the latter. 

It turned out to be pretty damn lucky that he did. 

The front door stuck  when he pulled at it and he ended up going around to the back and crawling up through the front, the back was burned out and the front seat was big enough to stretch out in without killing your back while you slept. 

Turns out that was pretty common knowledge, and he got halfway up before a person stirred and yawned from the front seat.

It took him a few moments before he recognized the person. It was Johnny. Johnny didn’t seem to recognize him, however, because he jumped upright as soon as he noticed him, pressing himself against the rusted driver’s side door in fear as he did so. Dally instantly felt guilty. He knew there was no reason to. Neither one of them had known the other would be there, but he always felt bad for scaring Johnny. The kid was scared enough all the time as it was. He didn’t want to add to that.

“Oh, Dal,” Johnny said, closing his eyes briefly in relief. “It’s just you.”

“Yeah, Johnnycake,” Dally said, trying to give him a lopsided smile. “It’s just me. I ain’t gonna hurt’cha. You know that.”

Dally watched Johnny’s adam’s apple bob in the moonlight as he swallowed hard and nodded. He felt a little more guilty. He must’ve scared him pretty bad.

And that was when he also noticed the bruise around his eye. It looked bad. Like someone had him as hard as they could. 

And he knew exactly who it was too. He felt anger rise in him immediately.

“What happened to your face?” he asked, though he already knew the answer.

Johnny looked away, not meeting Dally’s eyes as he said, “It’s nothin’. It’s old.”

Dally frowned. “Johnny, I may be an idiot, but I sure ain’t stupid. That wasn’t there yesterday. What happened?”

Johnny swallowed again. “I, uh, I stole my old man’s razor blades in the garage and he caught me doin’ it and...well, he did it.” He still didn’t look at Dally as he spoke.

Dally’s hands clenched into fists and he gritted his teeth. He wanted to kill that man. He wanted to make him hurt the way he’d made Johnny hurt. Johnny was just a kid, a scared, lonely kid, that only wanted his parents to love him. He wanted it so bad he went into their garage and stole their razor blades to hurt himself with when it didn’t happen. And how did they repay him? They hurt him even worse, blaming him for their failings. 

They didn’t deserve to be alive, to have someone as kind and gentle as Johnny in their lives. He was sure the rest of the gang agreed. There was a reason Johnny was their pet.

“He do anything else?” he asked, it was never just the face, the bastard took his time with the kid. But Johnny lay silent and Dallas reminded himself to check the growing edge in his voice, it wasn’t helping anything. “C’mon, s’okay, I wanna try and help.”

That seemed to calm him down a bit and Dallas ignored the bite of his nails digging into his palms, he always had a tell if he was angry. Thank god it was dark, the kid probably didn’t notice it.

Johnny cleared his throat and sat up a little higher in the seat. “Yeah, my ribs got sorta messed up, and my back, but ‘s just that.” 

His eyes flicked downward and Dallas shifted so he could sit cross legged and face Johnny. Every so often he forgot how small he looked at night when he was tired like this, too small to be hurt like that. 

“‘Kay, well I got tape back at my place for your ribs ‘case they’re broken, and we can figure out about your eye and back, I probably have some alcohol we can put on it.”

In the dark he saw Johnny’s eyebrows shoot into his hairline and he shifted a bit before biting his lip and looking back up. “I don’t wanna be a bother Dal, I’ll be fine ‘till the morning and we can fix it here-”

“No trouble,” Dallas said, “C’mon, it ain’t that far.”

Johnny still bit his lip and didn’t reply, but when Dally stepped aside to let him pass by and get out of the car, he did. Dally grimaced as he watched Johnny wince, climbing out of the car and his heart almost broke in half when Johnny just smiled up at him after. He didn’t deserve to be treated like this. Not by the people who were supposed to love him. Not by anyone.

Johnny was limping and having a hard time moving without wincing, so Dally let him lean on him as they headed towards his house. 

Later, he would think about how much he’d enjoyed the feel of Johnny’s warm weight against him and smile to himself, something he rarely did anyway.

Lucky for them, Dally’s father was out of town on a job for the next few weeks. There wouldn’t be anyone there to bother them. Dally felt Johnny let out a soft sigh and relax against him at his news. His heart was still on the verge of breaking as he realized just how little that actually happened.

It really wasn’t that far, and from what Dallas could tell it was probably around midnight, so the streets were mostly empty except for the occasionally drunk. They were used to that. 

His place wasn’t great but it had heat and walls, and when they got to the chipped brown door, Dallas shifted Johnny so he could dig for the key in his pocket. “Damn thing…”

Johnny let out a snort and Dallas bit back a smile, it felt warm whenever he was the one to get Johnny to make any sound of contentment like that. 

“Yeah, yeah, just get in kid.”

* * *

 

As much as he’d protested initially, Johnny had always been curious about Dallas’s place. As far as he knew, none of the gang had been there before and it felt nice that he was the first. It probably was more out of pity than anything that Dallas dragged him there but he was too tired and sore to care about motive.

Dallas shut and locked the door behind him and Johnny stood in the doorway, shifting from foot to foot, he didn’t really have any idea where it was okay for him to go. It was uncharted territory, and he wasn’t being discreet about it.

“You can go on the couch if ya want,” Dallas said as he walked past Johnny, “I gotta get the stuff, be right back.”

Johnny nodded and took a couple steps before sitting down on said couch, taking way longer than it should have taken a healthy, uninjured person. There was the sound of cabinets opening and Johnny took the time to look around before Dallas got back with the tape.

The place was decent. Sort of barren, not much furniture besides the couch, a table near the kitchen, and a chair or two near the couch. Not exactly homey but at least it was quiet. And warm. The couch was soft too. Johnny almost felt like he could fall asleep right there.

Dally returned with the first aid supplies and said, his voice much softer and calmer than it might have been with anyone else, “Okay, Johnnycake, you gotta take off your shirt for me, so I can see where I need to bandage you and stuff.”

His voice was tentative and Johnny realized he must’ve noticed that Johnny didn’t like exposing any part of himself. He hadn’t ever told anyone that or why, but somehow Dally had known. But, then again, Dally seemed to know things about him that no one else did without him having to say anything. Johnny still didn’t understand how or why. Dallas Winston wasn’t the type of person to remember things about other people. 

Unless he really cared about them.

Swallowing hard, Johnny tugged off his shirt. He grimaced as he lifted his arms over his head, stretching the bruises on his back and torso, irritating whatever had happened to his ribs. He didn’t look at Dally, but if he had, he would’ve seen Dallas grimacing along with him.

He glanced briefly at Dally once he’d gotten the shirt off and saw a look of horror painted on his features. Johnny couldn’t see what his back looked like or really see the extent of the damage on his torso either, but the look on Dally’s face told him enough. It was bad. 

Strangely, he hadn’t felt it had been that bad. Maybe that was because he was just used to it and when he said the same thing to Dally, he let out bitter laugh and shook his head. 

“No, Johnny,” he said, his voice soft, dangerous, almost frightening. “This ain’t normal. And it ain’t somethin’ you should be used to.”

No matter how many times one of the gang told him that, Johnny never quite believed it, like tonight, he usually just nodded and let the subject drop. So he did, and again, it wasn’t convincing.

Dallas picked at the edge of the tape and put it against a less-bruised part of Johnny’s side. The flinch was reflexive and shame washed over him as soon as he did, a glance up at Dallas gave away how much that pissed him off, and hurt him.

“Sorry if it hurts a little, kid.”

Gritting his teeth, Johnny nodded and did his best to hold still when Dallas started wrapping the tape. He sort of had to move around Johnny as he did it, first pushing him back down when he’d offered to stand and make it easier on Dallas. 

But the whole affair was over awfully quick, and Dallas ripped off the end of the tape and sat back, looking decently satisfied with his work. They had both gotten quiet and Dallas put the tape down, reaching across the table to grab a rag and a bottle of rubbing alcohol.

He started pouring some on while Johnny tested stretching a bit. He definitely felt more secure, not like his ribs were moving or anything, which was the best they were going to be able to do without an actual doctor.

Dallas’s hand on his shoulder brought him back into focus and he saw a grimace on his face. “This’ll sting, nothin’ I can do about it.”

Again, Johnny just nodded and screwed his eye shut as Dallas brought the rag down near his eyebrow and started pressing it lightly over the rest of the forming bruise. And  _ fuck _ did it sting, you never got used to how much that could sting.

Squirming, Johnny started popping his knuckles just do to something with his hands that wasn’t shoving Dallas’s away. He got all ten by the time Dallas pulled away and the sting started to fade a bit. 

He opened his eyes when Dally pulled away the rag and saw guilt in his eyes. Everyone knew his popping his knuckles was one of his nervous tics. He did it only when anxious and he hated himself for making Dally think it was because of him.

Swallowing hard, he stood quickly despite the fact it made him wince and said, “Thanks, Dal, I’m sure you’re busy, I’ll-I’ll go home now.”

“You crazy, Johnnycake?” Dallas asked, sounding incredulous. Johnny couldn’t see his face. He wasn’t looking at him. “I ain’t lettin’ you go back to that place after this.”

Johnny turned to look at Dally without saying anything. “You- you want me to spend the night?” he asked. Now he was the one that sounded incredulous. 

Dally shrugged. He didn’t look at Johnny and instead picked at a hole in his jeans as he said, “Sure, why not? Your folks ain’t gonna treat you right anyway and it’s cold out there. I got my own bed and my old man’s bed and the couch. I got plenty of places for you to sleep.” He did look up at Johnny then and smiled. Johnny smiled back, this time truly meaning it.

He sat slowly back down on the couch and pulled his shirt back on slowly, still gritting his teeth, though not full on grimacing as he had been before. 

Dallas gave what would be a smirk on most but was as close as he ever got a smile around the rest of them and walked toward the door to what was probably a bedroom. “I can get you a clean shirt if ya want.”

It was weird seeing Dallas walking around and living like a real person, and if he didn’t feel like general shit he might have laughed. “Sure, thanks Dal.”

* * *

 

Dallas walked into his room and dropped the tape and rubbing alcohol on the bed before starting to dig through his drawer for a shirt for the kid. Anything he had was going to be too big and he gave up trying to find something that might fit after a few minutes of looking.

It was sort of threadbare but he could get a blanket and stuff to keep him warm. If the kid got sick after hanging around with him he’d have more than one of the Curtis brothers on his ass. 

“Catch,” he said, tossing the shirt to Johnny on the couch. He snorted when Johnny nearly missed and pulled the blanket off his bed and grabbed a pillow too, the kid needed it more than him anyway. 

Johnny struggled out of his shirt, Dallas noticed, taking care to not hit any bruises, and pulled on Dallas’s way-too-big shirt. It made him look even smaller, if that was possible, and he looked up at Dallas, trying and failing to bite back a yawn.

Rolling his eyes, Dallas took a few steps closer to Johnny and handed him the blanket and pillow. “Don’t put yourself out for me, kid.”

Johnny pressed his teeth and lips together, still trying to hold back the yawn as he said, turning red and looking away, “I dunno what you’re talking about.”

Dally rolled his eyes, though he was smiling, and said, “Yeah, sure you don’t.” 

As he walked passed Johnny on his way to the bathroom, Johnny heading back towards the living room, he had a strange impulse to kiss Johnny’s forehead, maybe even hold him for a minute or two. But the impulse passed almost as quickly. He didn’t know what Johnny would think if he did that.

Dallas took a shower and went to the bathroom and by the time he got out, he was certain Johnny was asleep in the living room. He couldn’t hear anything coming from that direction anyway. He tiptoed back town the hall to his bedroom. He wasn’t exactly looking forwards to spending the night on a bare mattress, but he’d rather do that than have Johnny spend the night on a bare couch.

He still wasn’t sure when or how he fell asleep, but somehow he did, staring at the ceiling, smoking a cigarette, watching the smoke swirl up towards the plastic stars that his mother had put there before she died, a long time ago when he was a child. Somehow he’d had the wherewithal to put his cigarette out in the ashtray on his nightstand before he rolled away from the moonlight shining in the window and drifted off.

It was still the dead of night when Dally woke up. At first, he wasn’t sure why he’d woken up and then he realized there was someone in his bedroom. He turned and saw a small shape clutching a pillow and a large blanket, looking at least five years younger than he actually was, standing a couple of yards away from his bed.

“Johnny?” he asked, squinting into the darkness, his voice hoarse from sleep. “What’re you doin’ in here, man?”

Johnny didn’t say anything. He crossed the room and stopped in front of Dally’s bed. There was an expression on his face that Dally didn’t really recognize, but then Johnny sat down on the edge of his bed. He set the blankets down on top of Dally and placed the pillow by the headboard. Dally watched as he lay down on the bed then, right next to him, and pulled the blanket up over both of them.

For several moments after, Dally lay perfectly still, not entirely sure what was happening, until he felt Johnny’s small arms wrapping around his torso, his head lying on his chest. Dally still remained frozen, not sure this was real, certain he must’ve fallen into a dream, positive that if he touched Johnny or spoke at all the spell would break and everything would go back to normal. Whatever that was.

“Is this okay?” the voice startled him. He hadn’t expected Johnny to be the one asking that question. If he was honest, he hadn’t expected any of this at all. But was this okay?

“Yes,” he said, his own voice a whisper. He wasn’t sure he wanted to speak any louder or if he even could. “Yeah, it’s okay, Johnnycake.” He wrapped his arms around him. For the first time in his life, Dallas Winston was shaking, but he found he didn’t mind. It was the good kind of shaking. And that feeling was only enforced by how Johnny tightened his hold on him.

Dally didn’t sleep for the rest of the night. He didn’t want to. He didn’t want to waste a single moment of this time with Johnny. He listened to Johnny’s breathing even out, listened to him fall asleep again, and watched silently through his window as the night turned to day, the sun began to come up, and the birds began to sing. And for the first time Dally could remember, he wanted to sing with them.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope yall enjoyed!! 
> 
> We had a really awesome time writing this and @johnny cade (johnnycake) is so talented and fun to work with <3 <3 <3
> 
> I really would love to write more for this fandom and adore getting ideas from you guys so hmu in the comments!! And as always please leave kudos if you enjoyed!! <3 <3


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